In response to the letter, Facing Pain, Ash Amaron writes, “Nina, I just wanted to say your letters, and this one in particular, truly speak from the heart. You have a true gift for how you string your words together. This is an unbelievably eloquent essay with an introspective look at a deep human instinct. Keep spreading your words of Truth. It’s resonating profoundly.”

Every day now, I get up from bed, excited to see what the day will bring, in humble gratitude that I actually woke up to experience another magnificent day teeming with opportunity, possibility, beauty and friendship. I didn’t use to feel this way, however. What I used to feel is in stark comparison to the glorious days I live now: I had once felt impending, unabated dread, esteem so low I would do anything to try and numb the pain, the muted whispers of a free and adventurous life silenced so much so that I all but forgot about it.

Until the moment I could take no more. No more falsity in my life. No more lying to myself nor to others. No more pleading wishes unfulfilled, desperate dreams never lived, a bountiful life hampered by self-inflicting and societal wounds, never to heal itself again. No more surface-level mundane existence, one that when brought to one’s death bed, we only wished we lived more, took more risks, did what we had actually wanted rather than what others wanted for us. I wanted to drive deep into the heart of what matters in my life. Simply put, I wanted Truth.

And now, I write to you from that exact place — the place of Truth. Every tearful, passionate word you shall read, every introspective, heartfelt letter you open in your inbox, I fervently give you my sincerest word that it comes from a place of experience, natural curiosities, an unrelenting ambition to seek the Truth, a driving devotion to deliver to you what is on my heart at that exact moment in time.

The only line I will ever live by, from the wise and great philosopher Henry David Thoreau, is, “Rather than love, than money, than fame, give me truth.”

**

Some questions you may have about this letterly, The Heart of What Matters:

What are some of the topics you write about?

The topics range as far as the heart goes deep. This is the abstract, poetic way of saying, whatever is on my heart, mind and soul. The through-line in all the letters, however, is that it speaks the Truth and resounds with thoughtful consideration of the nature and complexity of our human kind.

Past topics — you can see the full list here — have included the intricacies of human nature, fear, pain, death, attachment and expectation, sexuality, cultural and societal stigmas, philosophy, Yoga, meditation, travel, memorable characters I meet along the way, my insatiable desire to write to you from a place of honest exploration of the world and of the self.

A couple of sample letters can be found at the bottom of this page. Just scroll down to read and enjoy.

Why should I support you?

The Truth is, you don’t have to. The reasons run far and wide as to why various people will support the work of one independent writer. Trust is, first and foremost, a necessity. You have to trust me that my writings will help you in your life, work and art. Or, at the very least, is a pleasurable read for you and something you look forward to opening, rather than regarding it with distaste and obligation.

I highly encourage you to read essays on Castles in the Air, the free public blog, to see if my writings adequately attend to your spirit’s needs and longings. If it does? Splendid! I am happy to have done my part in helping another person in the world. And if it doesn’t? No harm done.

What are some of the benefits of subscribing?

Subscribing directly helps self-publishers and independent writers, such as myself, gain ground in a mired field of shams, corporate promotions, and utter confusion of “what the heck is out there that’s actually good to read nowadays?” That doesn’t dole out the same drive-thru, quick-and-easy, cliché advice that one can find on the shelves of popular but repetitive self-help books and blogs? That is actually fair and honest?

It is my ardent hope that my writings will help you see life from a different point of view, to broaden your understanding of humanity at large, that it will somehow benefit you and make you a better person because of it. A grandiose notion to proclaim, sure, but I make no small attempt to be a mere speck in the sky, simply to be forgotten and to be of no use to anyone, including myself.

How often do you publish and is there a timeframe or schedule you go by?

In the past, I’ve published anywhere from five times a month to twelve times. It all depends on where I’m at in life, if I even have Internet access, as well as the nature of my self-evolution. Thoughts come and go, and as quickly as they come, they stale just as fast. I aim to deliver honest snapshots at that very moment, so naturally, I do not publish using any sort of schedule. I actually don’t live my life by schedules or time either, so it just works out in the end.

What about those who can’t seem to justify paying any amount of money, be it as small as $0.99, for a monthly subscription?

Then it’s their choice, naturally! Free public essays are always available on my blog with no pressure or shameless promotion of having to subscribe to the letterly. I understand we all come from different financial places in our lives, as some are merely trying to stay afloat and not succumb to their overwhelming debt and bills.

More than once, I have given away free subscriptions to readers that simply could not afford it but have expressed sincere wishes that they really wanted to if they could. Does this violate the principle of giving away one’s work for free to some while simultaneously charging my work to others? It all comes down to whether or not both parties agree on what is considered honest.

Will you release an archive of past letters? I just subscribed recently and would enjoy reading past letters.

At any time, if you would like any past letters, all you have to do is let me know (reply to nina@castlesintheair.org). More than once, upon the request of a subscriber, I have sent him/her a copy of all past letters from the very beginning (20 May 2011). I have no reservations about this at all, especially if it will benefit the reader.

Publicly, I have thoughts of compiling select letters into one single affordable ebook for those to purchase at a later date. And as a bonus, subscribers to The Heart of What Matters will receive every book I release to the public, absolutely free and in advance. This is just one small way I can express my gratitude for you joining me in this beautiful life, walking beside me step-by-step.

What’s the difference between publishing in your letterly versus publishing on your public blog, Castles in the Air?

More importantly, what are the similarities? Truth is the common thread that binds the two platforms. Both are written from personal, educational or philosophical notions and experiences of mine. Both serve as a vehicle for the reader to take a glimpse into the life of one autonomous, free-spirited soul.

Some differences, of course, naturally exist between a free, public platform (as such in a blog) and that of a paid, intimate platform (as such in letterly). Readers can easily respond to any letters by email, therefore, sparking an honest one-on-one conversation that cannot be easily replicated on a blog.

What I write and share in the letterly tend to be more personal observances and experiences derived from my world travels, people I meet along the way, past loves, hurts and fears I’ve released or have yet to release, as well as my fascination with self-evolution and driving deep into the heart of what matters. Therefore, those who subscribe, are not subscribing to receive catch-all generic how-to guides and step-by-step formulaic models that run rampant on blogs. Those who subscribe, instead, receive a close snapshot of the idiosyncratic life, thoughts, dreams, fears and pains of one specific person in this world. Some sort of trust must have already been established prior to a person subscribing. That trust is typically through the public blog first.

**

Read the following sample letters, and if it jives well with you, I invite you to join me in this grand literary adventure. Try it out for one month and if it doesn’t suit you, you can unsubscribe at any time, no questions asked.

Thank you for your support and for your committed journey to the heart of what matters, with or without this letterly. May Truth ring clear in your life.

Love and Light,
Nina

**

SAMPLE LETTER

Human Nature
04 December 2011

Quiet mosquitoes fly softly in the evening air, circling my ankles like a leopard circles its unsuspecting prey. By the time I notice them, it is already too late. Another tiny drop of my DNA in the full bellies of these little critters as they glide away; as noiseless as they came, they leave in the same fashion. I’ve become the prey, they the predator.

The nature of man is of the hunter-gatherer type. Long before we had Trader Joe’s, Jewel or the Whole Foods that ubiquitously line up our modern, domestic landscape, we had Nature herself. What stood between us and our meal was not a thin piece of plastic called a credit card or a piece of paper called money, but a tool. A weapon. Our own hands.

We burrowed like foxes. We climbed trees like monkeys. We grazed off of leaves and berries like giraffes. We swam like the sea turtles. We did anything and everything we could to survive. And survive we did. One sweeping look around you and you shall see the extent of man’s modern inventions, how civilization has evolved to a place where we have everything short of teleporting, how the human body has seamlessly shaped itself for a life of … cultured domesticity.

The wild dogs that pepper the lone streets of Bangalore scamper late at night outside the Academy. I hear them fight with each other in my half-awake-half-asleep state from consciousness to subconsciousness. The yips and growls and barks and moans grow louder as they run full-speed through the lanes, then fade into the distance as surely as my conscious state fades into the next stage of sleep. It is their nature. It is our nature.

Jet-black crows caw without apology, not caring what time of day it is or that they might wake up the humans, those who reside on the earth while walking on two long legs. They communicate in hoards, fluttering and flapping and screeching all the while. People ignore them, immersed in their own version of cawing — yelling, screaming, chatting, singing, chanting. It is their nature. It is our nature.

A fallen mosquito fights a millimeter-sized ant on the ground; the ant dashes back and forth at it, the mosquito flaps its broken wings. Across the street, the land lady yells at her disgruntled tenants and threatens to shut off the water and power. After some time, the ant leaves. The land lady leaves. It is their nature. It is our nature.

Maple-brown cockroaches perch with utter stillness on the bathroom walls. The light is on. They stay frozen. I stare at them, thinking whether to bother them from their natural state of … survival. Turning on the faucet to fill the royal blue bucket that catches the running water, I squat down naked and take my daily bucket bath. After I finish, the cockroaches are still in the same place, unmoving. I make up for their lack of movement and move my legs back to my room. It is their nature. It is our nature.

Removal of linguistic mediums for communication from animal to human reduces our coexistence to one of simple movements. I come near a wild dog. It averts its eyes downward and lays down lazily on the dusty streets. I come near a crow. It flaps its heavy, dark wings and carries itself to another branch. I come near a mosquito and ant. They quickly disperse, forgetting the fight they were having a mere moment ago. I come near a cockroach. It scurries across the wall and ducks into a compact, black hole, vanishing into the walls itself.

Reverse the movements. A wild dog comes near me. I back up a few steps or walk around it briskly. A crow flies around me. I continue walking. A mosquito and ant comes near me. The mosquito, I attempt to swat at, the ant, I leave alone. A cockroach scuttles frantically towards me. I mini jump in the air and find the nearest shoe, book, anything, to make it go away.

Human nature is a peculiar, funny thing. And what of the human body? Anthropologist John Blacking contends that “there is no such thing as the human body,” that there are, in fact, many kinds of body, fashioned by the differing environments and expectations that societies have of their members’ bodies. As environments and expectations change, so do the kinds of bodies which societies produce.

Some societies eat wild dogs, like the young village men whom I came across their fresh slaughtering of a once lively, brown-and-black striped dog at the side of the Mekong River in Laos. Other societies revere dogs and help the wild ones, called strays — for didn’t they really just stray away from a homely home? or that they are transient creatures close to finding a loving home and owner, if only given the opportune chance? — by giving them a second shot at life. What second shot though? This is life.

Some societies eat insects, rich in protein and nutrients, plentiful and all around. No Trader Joe’s necessary. Other societies adore birds, like in Malaysia, where one can find bird parks, like the Kuala Lumpur Bird Park, a 20.9-acre public aviary. And all societies fight, to some extent. All get scared, to some extent. All are trying to survive.

Effortlessly observing the self’s movements in accordance to the environment, and the environment’s movements in accordance with the self, one can begin to have a broader understanding of Nature as she has intended. We live side-by-side with a billion living things all around us. Yet sometimes, we become so caught up in our own engrossed mind’s activities that we forget that all around us, poetry and the song of Nature are freely there, gently reminding us that every single thing exists for the sheer pleasure of it. It needn’t have to make sense, to have things go a certain way, our way, really.

We simply need to open our eyes, heart outstretched, and observe.

**

SAMPLE LETTER

Its invisibility leads us to its inevitability.
14 November 2011

“Want to be more aligned with the Universe?” Chris, Master Teacher at Atmayaan Yoga Academy, said calmly, as he let a small smile creep to the corner of his mouth. I nodded visibly. A few other students audibly said yes.

“Think of your favorite color. Your favorite color, what is it?” he asked the class.

Some people responded out loud, red! black! blue! I responded inside my head, blue.

“Now, can you give up that color? Let it go?” Chris continued. I had a feeling where this was headed towards and I was liking it.

Sure, I can give up the color blue, I thought. Other students agreed they can probably give it up without a problem.

“Now, think of your favorite hobby. What is it and can you give that up?”

Whoa. My favorite hobby? That would include reading. Writing. Yoga itself! I inquisitively pondered this dilemma. It was only an intrinsic dilemma because I held onto these “hobbies” and had them identify much with who I am as a person and how I live my life.

My classmate to my right shook her head solemnly. She can’t give up her favorite hobby, whatever it was. And to be honest, I didn’t think I could either.

Before I could continue wrapping my mind around this predicament, Chris asked another question.

“Your gender. Can you give up identifying yourself as male, female? A man, a woman?”

The class was silent for two seconds. Then, someone chirped, “Uh, no!” I had to chuckle at that response. Because, for most of us, I would wager a firm guess that we do not want to give up our gender. If we can’t even give up a coveted parking space at the crowded mall, we certainly are not ready for anything beyond that.

“You see what I mean? When you become One with the Universe, you are no longer an individual. Any sense of “I” is left behind. Any sense of “mine” is abandoned. I am no longer Chris. I am no longer a man. I am no longer I. Essentially, you become the Universe. You become everything and nothing all at the same time. That is what it means to reach samadhi. That is what it means to be enlightened, truly enlightened.”

The man has a point. He is brilliant, ever wise as he teaches the students the principles of yogic philosophy and theory, and truly, life as an entire whole, our relationship with ourselves, with the world and all its sentient life forms.

Now this has me thinking, long after class was over. That night, I laid in the hard bamboo bed in my room at the Academy, half propped up by the thin, green pillow and a checkered blue bolster I borrowed from the yoga supply room.

I had finished Kerouac’s The Dharma Bums and what he said within it made a lot of sense,

“[Alvah] was always being bugged by my little lectures on Samadhi ecstasy, which is the state you reach when you stop everything and stop your mind and you actually with your eyes closed see a kind of eternal multiswarm of electrical Power of some kind ululating in place of just pitiful images and forms of objects, which are, after all, imaginary. And if you don’t believe me come back in a billion years and deny it. For what is time?”

Time is yet another thing we latch onto, for its invisibility leads us to its inevitability, that which we cannot have, we desperately want. That which we cannot grasp, we hold onto. That which we cannot see, we envision it like it was already ours all along. Like love, in the likes of Jeanette Winterson, why is it only in the measure of loss that we finally realize how much we’ve loved?

Self-identification bears many vehicles. Our bodies, for one. This is the primary identification vehicle people find most familiarity in. It is visceral, comprised of solid mass. We can see, touch, taste, hear, smell it. If we can use all our senses, our bodies must be real, right?

What of the sixth sense? What of the spiritual, the cosmic, the Universal? Will we ever get to a place where we can literally forgo all that we’ve ever understood with our minds intellectually, all that we’ve ever felt with our hearts emotionally, all that we’ve ever lusted after physically?

Yes, we can. But it won’t be easy. Saying it is easy. For it is in the nonthinking, when your mind and body has melded into One, that we can reach this eternal state of pure consciousness. Mind and body are no longer separate entities working in parallel conjunction in a three-dimensional world, where the vertical, horizontal and diagonal are all that exists and all that forms what we perceive to be our reality.

I asked Tessa this question as we went jogging in Portland, Murakami-style with meta-tations quadruple layered upon each syllable, every word uttered and thought, “If you exist and I exist, then isn’t this our reality?”

It may be, for now. But the question remains, was this always our reality? If it never was our reality to begin with, how do we know what’s real and what isn’t? How do we merge the conscious with the subconscious?

I slowly close my heavy eyes as I drift into a state of semi-conscious sleep. A Sufi quote flashes across my mind, right above my eyebrow center, the sixth primary chakra called Ajna.

I read it like I read a page out of a book, “You want to know why you are here? You are here to find out what is real.”

I am here. And I want to find out what is real.

**

About the Author

Born August 12, 1984, Nina Yau has been writing since the age of five. With a penchant for adventure, she completed her first international solo flight at the age of six to Taiwan (Republic of China) with nothing more than a small duffel bag and a stuffed kitten in tow. After completing business school in her hometown of Chicago and well on her way to a standard corporate life, Nina abandoned it all behind at age twenty-six in order to pursue a life worth living for. She’s been walking the path of Truth ever since.

Nina helps others discover the Truth within all of us through teaching Yoga and with her introspective writings at her blog Castles in the Air. She currently is living and traveling all throughout India, and has been for the past four months.